


Problem

by Tomomi



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomomi/pseuds/Tomomi
Summary: Trouble in paradise





	Problem

Hugo always considered himself a problem solver. Both in the academical sense and the practical sense. He always had a solution, and he strongly believed that everything had a solution to find.

Sometimes, though, the solution is the easy part, and finding the problem was the issue.

And there were many problems with his country.

Many.

His father was one of them, of course. As admiral as the man was, he punishments were cruel and his ideals were destructive. But he wasn’t the only problem, Hugo came to realize as he grew up.

He listened to what his people had to say. And even if he couldn’t do anything, he still listened closely to their complaints. To how they felt. And it was safe to say that they didn’t like him very much. His own people, his own citizens… hated him.

But he knew this already. He was well-acquainted with how people saw him. He understood that they looked through a lens of politics and history to judge him. All of them did.

Every.

Single.

One.

And did he really blame them for seeing him that way? Truly, he could never, not in the deepest part of his heart, blame a single one of his citizens for this.

And he knew that he was no saint, and he understood that perfectly. In fact, he was closer bred to a wretch than anything benign.

But even so, he liked to believe that he was more benevolent than his father. Or anyone else in his family, for that matter.

In fact, he _knew_ that he was better than his father! He knew it so well he could write a novel on it–no, twenty! He was more understanding, he was more resourceful, more insightful, even! Hugo was a good person. He knew he was a good person. And he had nothing to be sorry for.

But there was something about the way Jirai looked at him.

Were they truly on opposing forces? No. They were both fighting the same battle; to overtake the dictator that was his father, and to stop his unjust persecutions from harming the next generation.

But Jirai still looked at Hugo like he was the cause of everything wrong in his life.

And he really didn’t need to say it. Hugo could see the hatred all over his face, but that didn’t stop the words from tumbling out every time.

“When you were born, your father took our money. Our. Money. To give you everything. You went to sleep every night being cradled by silk and satin, while I was crushed by shame and dirt.”

This would only be the start.

You’re wrong. Hugo would think, and then he bites his lip at his own lie. “That is none of my concern.”

“You didn’t have to worry about when you’d be able to drink clean water again, or if you’ll live long enough to see the upcoming day.”

Hugo sucked in a quick breath and darted his gaze elsewhere. “I apologize for everything you went through, but that still has nothing to do with me. My father’s decisions are his own, and that’s final. Do you believe that I would have been so cruel if I was in his position.”

And at that remark, Jirai’s frown turned into a sneer.

“You expect me to buy that you wouldn’t spoil your heir with the riches you’ve plucked from every tax paying citizen?”

Hugo hated where this conversation lead to. Because he knew how it ended. Always the same. “My child is not an heir, and I can’t foresee what kind of parent I’d be.” Jirai grin fell at that statement. “Although, I imagine I’d be different than my father.”

…

“You are all the same.”

“Don’t lump me in with the other-”

“-Nobles are ALL the same, and you’re walking proof. You refuse to take ANY sort of responsibility for any of the damage you’ve caused!”

Hugo would huff at about this point. “My father is horrible. I know he is. And I know that I am spoiled, and that I do not deserve what I’ve been blessed with. I am not, however, responsible, for your family, or anyone else’s for that matter!” He hated raising his voice, but this was the part he could never keep it down.

“You don’t need intent to cause pain, Hugo.” Jirai stepped closer and Hugo stepped back. “You don’t need to mean anything in order to be at fault. And you don’t need to be the direct cause of trauma to be held accountable.”

…

“I didn’t do anything to you, Jirai.” Hugo stared at him with empathetic eyes, and they really were empathetic this time around, but Jirai didn’t believe them.

“Whenever people see you, they think about how you single handedly took everything from them. They think about how healthy you look, how groomed you are, how entitled you act… and you took it all away from them.”

“I didn’t do anything to you.” Hugo usually repeated this line when he ran out of things to say.

“One morning at the academy, I had to console my grieving mother who had just lost my baby sister. She was only four months along, and she didn’t have enough food for the both of them.” Jirai deepened his frown and turned to the side. “That same morning, you were smiling and laughing with your friends, and it just seemed like the world was shining on you that day. You don’t understand how much pain you caused me that day, just by being happy.”

This was the part of the conversation that started to feel suffocating–like Jirai had his hands gripping his neck and wouldn’t let go. It was so hard to breathe. But this was also the part where Jirai promptly leaves, ending the spat. A little too soon, almost. But what’s the point in staying? He already made his point and nothing was swaying it.

And after this, Hugo would be shaken up by this, but only momentarily. He’d then carry on his business like it was a normal day. But then it’d hit him again. And again. And again.

He is the source of pain in people.

He doesn’t even have to say anything.

He doesn’t have to lift a finger.

His presence invokes grief. And there’s nothing he can do to remove that. He cannot buy his citizens happiness. He cannot promise them joy and a brighter future–and even if he could, they would not forgive him for what he is.

His father committed the deed, but he is the product. He is the problem.

Hugo is the problem.


End file.
